bright-that Skye felt entranced.
“All right,” she reluctantly agreed. “Then I’ll drive you back to your motel.”
She planned to argue, Skye could tell from her posture. Then she relented. “Thank you.”
ELEVEN
During the fifteen-minute drive from the jail to the motel on the edge of town, Moira didn’t speak unless the sheriff asked her a direct question. She was numb from both physical and emotional pain. All she wanted was to return to the Italian sanctuary of St. Michael’s and lick her wounds.
But of course she couldn’t run away, and not just because the sheriff had kept her passport. The time for running was over. Her mother was here in Santa Louisa, and she had to be stopped. Fiona had done awful things in her life-kidnapping, torture, murder, a seemingly endless spree all done for power. Power begets power-the more control Fiona exercised over dark forces, the more power she craved.
But it wasn’t simply the lust for power that drove Fiona and other magicians. It was the thirst for knowledge that could never be satisfied. One taste of the infinite possibilities and the need for more grew, all-consuming, never ending until death. And for Fiona, death was merely an obstacle that could be avoided, within reach was the golden trophy: becoming a demigod.
Moira had to stand in Fiona’s way. She accepted that she would die-she deserved to-but Fiona would as well. Pure justice.
Yet if Moira was caught again by surprise, trapped, there was no way she’d survive long enough to stop her mother. She could protect herself if she were free, but locked up-she was a sitting duck. She’d make sure that never happened again.
Skye pulled into the motel parking lot. “Thanks for the lift,” Moira said as she reached for the door handle.
“You didn’t listen to anything I said.”
“I have a headache, it’s been a shitty day. I promise, I’m not going anywhere. Besides, you have my passport.”
“What did she do to you?” Skye asked.
“You wouldn’t believe it. Best thing you can do is stay out of my way.”
Skye turned off the ignition and bristled. “I don’t like threats.”
“I’m trying to save your ass. Fiona won’t go after you unless you try to stop her from getting what she wants. She doesn’t know what tricks Anthony has up his sleeve, but you can bet she knows you’re screwing him and she’ll use that against you if she can.”
Skye blanched. “I’m not-I mean, it’s-”
“Save it.”
“I’m not going to let anyone hurt Anthony, or get away with murder.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Shit, I hate it when Anthony says that and I
Moira asked, “How’d you and Anthony hook up?”
“You know about what happened at the mission?”
“Santa Louisa de los Padres? Of course. A demon-driven murder-suicide.”
“More like drug-induced murder-suicide. The priests were poisoned. There was one survivor, Anthony’s friend Rafe Cooper. Know him?”
She shrugged, disguising her interest. “Not personally.” Of course she’d heard of him. He was from St. Michael’s. Moira glanced toward her motel room. No light.
She’d left a light on.
She discreetly looked around the parking lot. Jared. His truck was parked on the far side. Had he found Lily? Moira hoped so … and that he’d actually listened to her and brought his girlfriend here.
Moira itched to get inside, but she also didn’t know if she could trust the sheriff completely. Yet based on the phone conversation Fiona had while torturing Moira, someone had tipped her off that the sheriff was coming in. Who? A cop?
“So, where’s Anthony now?” she asked Skye.
“Researching.”
Moira couldn’t help but smile. Some things never changed. “I hope he finds something useful. I don’t know how much time we have, but Fiona will be working all hours of the day and night to finish what she started.”
“And exactly just what
“You heard Anthony. He told you about the Seven. And-” She hesitated.
“And what?”
“Fiona said something that had me thinking her ritual went wrong. I don’t think she has the Seven Deadly Sins under her control. Not yet.”
“Then where are they? Still in Hell?”
Moira glanced at Skye, impressed that the cop was thinking like a paranormal investigator. “Possibly. Either there, or out and about, and wreaking havoc in the world.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because she was frustrated about it. Also, if she had them under her control, she wouldn’t have time to spend trying to kill me. It’s not like she can put them in a cage and walk away. She would need to maintain a demon trap, which is difficult in the short term and nearly impossible in the long term. Either way, she’d need to focus all her psychic magic on the trap, not walking away and playing games with her traitorous daughter.”
“And why aren’t they still in Hell?”
“They could be, but …” But what? “It’s just a feeling. And what I saw out there.” Moira didn’t want to explain her vision standing at the ruins, which would inevitably open the door to more questions that she didn’t have the time for. She itched to get inside and talk to Jared.
Skye had more questions, but Moira cut her off with, “I’m really tired. Can I go in?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”
“I’m fine.” She held up the quart of orange juice Skye had bought her at the mini-mart near the jail. “This helped, and with a few hours’ sleep I’ll be good.” She didn’t plan on sleeping.
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
“I’ll try to be smart.” She put her hand on the door, then asked, “What’s going to happen with Abby’s body?”
“Why?”
“You absolutely must convince the family to cremate her body.”
“It’s not my place.”
“You don’t underst-”
“Stop!” Skye ran a hand through her hastily pinned-back hair. “You and Anthony-I swear, I understand a hell of a lot more than either of you give me credit for. Why, dammit, is her body so important?”
She wanted honesty? “The human remains from a sacrifice are divided up for use in a variety of divinations. Her heart. Her liver. Her ovaries. Her eyes. Her organs have value. They’ll cut her up and use her for years. It’s sick, but it’s very effective. And it traps her soul. She’ll wander, restless, divided. Evil spirits are truly dangerous, because they usually can’t be destroyed until all their remains are destroyed. As soon as her remains are divided, she’ll be nearly unstoppable.”
Skye looked ill. “I’m going to get some sleep,” Moira said. “Do what you can.” She wasn’t holding her breath. Moira herself would have to find the body and destroy it. There was no other option. Unless she could convince Anthony to do it. He would understand the dangers.
She started to get out of the truck, but Skye grabbed her arm. “If you’re right, they’ve done this before. So why isn’t the world overrun with evil spirits?”
Moira stared at her, a half-smile on her face. “Who says it isn’t?”
